Questionnaire
by ketchupblood
Summary: Of all the things that Fuji wants and can't have, Tezuka is the one furthest from his grasp and foremost in his wishes. [Tezuka x Fuji]


School surveys had a habit of being annoying, Fuji thought. Certainly the one in front of him was no exception. Three full pages, front and back, of the most ridiculously pointless and senselessly useless questions that had ever been thought up—and he was already having trouble with the first one. What did it matter, how well he knew his best friend, anyways?

_Who is your best friend?_

It was an anonymous survey meant as a self-esteem raising activity of some sort; he could have put anyone's name there and no one would have been the wiser. But that felt too much like cheating, and for all that he rarely bothered caring about anything, cheating was still too much indifference for even Fuji. So he stared at the sheet before sighing and penning in 'Tezuka Kunimitsu.'

Which wasn't strictly true, because he didn't think of Tezuka so much as a friend as a hopeless crush of his, but it was more true than most answers he could have given if only because he tended to be at least a little honest with Tezuka. With Tezuka, he always smiled because he wanted to smile and not because he always smiled, though he doubted Tezuka knew that or would really care, so long as it wasn't harming his tennis.

"Fuji."

Fuji looked up, smiling at Tezuka in a way that he knew to be entirely real but that Tezuka would never trust. "Done already, Tezuka?"

Tezuka raised an eyebrow at him; Fuji loved when he did that. "You're not required to actually do that, you know."

Oh. Of course not. There was no reason the school would actually want to know these things about their students. All it asked was that they stayed out of trouble, of course. Anything else was entirely too much information for them to keep up with. That was where people like Tezuka came along, Fuji supposed, to take care of everything else. He put his pencil down. "Ah, really? I hadn't known that."

Tezuka nodded and said, all business as usual, "I need you to help the first years today. They should probably practice their backhands a bit. Oishi said that they all needed to work on putting a little more power into it except Horio—he needs to learn to hold back..."

Fuji watched Tezuka talk without really listening and tried to imagine his voice softening and his perfectly emotionless gaze filled with some sort of fire. It was hard; Fuji had never seen anyone's eyes light up with flames like all the cheesy romance novels Yumiko read said they should before. Still, his overactive imagination managed to provide him with a very nice little image.

"...maybe teach them how to hit a bit more precisely." Tezuka finished.

"Alright." Fuji didn't want to. Tezuka rarely watched the first years and that meant that Fuji would be without Tezuka at practice. Still, since Tezuka was asking, he wouldn't refuse. "The break's almost over, Tezuka. You should get back to class."

Tezuka nodded and walked out of the classroom without a glance backwards. Fuji knew, because he turned to watch Tezuka walk out. Then he took a deep breath to calm down a little and stuffed the paper into his bag.

_What do you like best about him/her?_

There were a lot of things that Fuji wanted. He wanted Yuuta to come home and he wanted to play samurai together with his brother again. He wanted to be able to walk into Yumiko's room without knocking first and not worry about finding her crying because of that bastard again. He wanted to go home and see his father, to bask in the approval that he had never received before and to hear him say proudly, '_This_ is my son.' He wanted his mother to smile and laugh like she used to. He wanted Saeki to stop ignoring him because of their last little fight—at least he was better than Yuuta. Saeki always came back.

Most recently, he wanted Tezuka to look at him, just at him.

It was perhaps the most unrealistic of the things that he wanted, but Fuji thought that he should be able to wish for something stupid, just once. He knew better than to put much hope into the wish, but he was still going to want it. So he woke up every morning at a ridiculous hour and ran off to morning practice before Yumiko had even finished putting on all the layers of her mask. He always said goodbye to her first; she would be the only one up at that hour and he kind of liked seeing his sister before she was covered in thick foundation, blush, eyeliner and shadow, lipstick, and mascara. She was more human without her mask.

Then he would run out with a piece of buttered toast—he could cook more if he wanted to, but he rarely wanted to—and his school and tennis things. It was always a little awkward, balancing his book bag, the tennis bag, his lunch, and his breakfast on the way to the bus stop, but Fuji had found a system that worked well enough for him. Both bags went on the same shoulder, his lunchbox was held loosely in his left hand and his breakfast was in his right. It worked well enough, unless he had anything else to carry or had the bad luck of needing both hands that day.

It would be a good day, Fuji decided as he set his bags down one by one and then sat on the bench at the bus stop. Nothing bad had happened yet and Yumiko had looked genuinely excited to see the new day. That was always a good sign. She might read the future in cards, but Fuji read the future through her, because she was more accurate than her cards ever were.

The bus arrived on time and Fuji stepped on. He used to always get on before Yuuta, because Yuuta used to be scared that a monster would jump out at him if he went through any door without checking first. Fuji would look around and smile back to his little brother and motion him to hurry up and come in. Then Yuuta would laugh and follow Fuji to the back of the bus, where the bumps were most obvious and most fun.

They didn't do that anymore.

It was an early bus and no one was on it other than Fuji and an old lady with her purse. He sat down across the little aisle from her and smiled. She smiled back, looking for all the world like he had just made her day which he probably had. He remembered seeing her on the bus before with another woman, probably her daughter, and her little five year old son. The boy had leaned as far away from her as he could and the woman had spent the entire ten minute ride nagging at her to finish writing her will. Fuji had gotten off then, in a horrible mood for the rest of the day, even when Tezuka grabbed his shoulder firmly and asked what was wrong. Fuji had been honest then, one of the few times he'd been mad enough to just come out and say it, and had told Tezuka that young people these days didn't respect their elders enough.

Tezuka's shocked face had almost been enough to make Fuji's day better. It didn't quite make it a good day, but it wasn't an entirely bad one, either.

Fuji smiled at the old woman and opened his school bag, searching for the pack of chocolates that Yumiko almost always slipped in. 'In case you ever want to confess,' she had said, and he had thought that she had too much faith in him. He found it and stood, rocking a little on the bus, and walked over to her and held it out. "Will you be my valentine?"

It was ridiculous, of course. For one thing, it was November.

She looked at him, shocked. Then she started laughing and took the chocolates from his hand. "Don't girls normally give all you pretty little boys presents on Valentines day?" She asked.

He smiled, genuine and happy. "Accept my White Day present, then?"

"I would love to." She told him.

When he got off the bus at the school, he turned back and waved and she waved back.

"Who are you waving to?"

Fuji didn't turn back around. He didn't need to. He knew Tezuka's voice and his presence well enough to know it was him. "My valentine."

Tezuka didn't say anything else and when Fuji turned around he was gone. The hard _thwack, thwack_ of a tennis ball told him that Tezuka had already started practicing, which meant he'd warmed up a while ago. Fuji let a warm little shiver spread through his body before heading towards the lockers. Tezuka had stopped whatever he had been doing to come and greet him.

_How would you describe him/her?_

Fuji knew that he was often a manipulative bastard and it didn't bother him nearly as much as it maybe should have. It wasn't as if he was cruel about it. He just liked knowing that he could, with the littlest things, influence his friends to do something _huge_. Therefore, when he learned who Kawamura liked, he made it a point to go and introduce himself to Miyaki-chan, the lucky girl who also happened to rank as number five hundred and sixty-eight in a student body of six hundred and three students, and offer to help her study, should she need any help.

And because no female Seigaku student could ever resist Fuji's blue eyes—so rare in Japan that they were all _sure_ he wasn't pure Japanese. The most popular theory was that he was really half French—she had agreed right away and he had planned to meet with her on Thursday after school.

That settled, he made some excuse to go back to his class and went to Kawamura's locker at the sports wing of Seigaku and rifle through the contents until he found the little river stone that he'd given his friend a few years ago for a Christmas present. He'd claimed it was a lucky stone, then, and Kawamura had believed him. It didn't fire him up as much as his racket did, but Kawamura always seemed a little less shy and a lot less awkward when he held it. Fuji smiled and slipped it into his pocket.

Then he went about his day as usual, partly paying attention and mostly daydreaming about his fantasy utopia where everything he wanted was true, until tennis practice. He had changed and was sitting in the changing room, waiting for Kawamura to realize that his lucky stone had gone missing, when Tezuka called him over. Fuji's heart thudded and a part of him stirred in anticipation of the lecture he knew he was going to get for playing with poor Kawamura like that. Instead, Tezuka just looked at him, completely inscrutable, and asked, "Are you really tutoring Miyaki-chan?"

It was so completely unlike Tezuka to ask him something like that that Fuji could only nod.

"Ah." Tezuka said and looked away, scanning the room for anyone who might have been disobeying. "That's all."

He didn't mention how cruel Fuji was being, for which Fuji was glad. A lecture from Tezuka would have really sucked, after all. No one likes being told off by their crush, after all. As it was, he watched, calm, caring, and patient, while Kawamura tore through his locker for the fifth time, searching for the stone. "I'm so sorry, Fujiko. I don't know how I could have lost your precious present!" He actually looked ashamed of himself then. "I'm such an awful person."

Fuji put a comforting hand on his shoulder and shrugged. "It's alright. I'm going to go to the river again after I tutor Miyaki-chan."

Kawamura actually stiffened under his hand. "Fujiko, y-you're...?"

Fuji nodded.

Kawamura looked away sheepishly and searched through his locker again.

-x-

She was waiting for him when he got to the library on Thursday. Behind him, Kawamura was doing a terrible job trying to stealthily follow him and it was all Fuji could do to keep from laughing and keep his kind, warm smile in place. She absolutely beamed at him when he sat down and pulled out his math book.

Then, as he explained what exactly a 'sine' was to her, he bent forward, close enough to look intimate and flirtatious, close enough that he could whisper without anyone but her hearing, "Did you wonder why I offered to tutor you?"

She blushed at the proximity, like she was supposed to. Fuji thought that he really shouldn't have been enjoying torturing his friend this much, but he was enjoying it and saw no reason to stop. She whispered back, "No..."

He hummed a little and talked about sine some more.

Then, as they were getting ready to go, he pulled up close to her again and said, softer this time, closer, "Someone told me you needed help with your grades, and he was too shy to help, himself..."

She looked at him, a little surprised. Fuji didn't normally hang out with anyone who would have been too shy to confess, she was probably thinking. She had probably overlooked Kawamura, like most people seemed wont to. He deserved better, Fuji thought, but since she was the one he wanted, he continued, "...give this to him later for me, okay?" He pressed the stone into her hand. "Don't lose it."

Then he backed away and finished putting his books in the bag and walked out, careful not to push the door into Kawamura on the way out. Kawamura stood there, shocked at being discovered, and Fuji stood there, equally shocked to see that Tezuka was there too. Then he smiled, regaining his composure, and stepped around Kawamura and pushed him into the library and closed the door again. "Hello, Tezuka." If Kawamura couldn't ask her after what Fuji had done for him, then it was hopeless anyways. There was no need to watch.

"Fuji." Tezuka said, calm as if he hadn't been caught eavesdropping.

Fuji smiled and Tezuka said something about going home soon. Fuji stood there and waited for Kawamura to come out so he could congratulate him, thinking that what made Tezuka so special wasn't that he was a perfect student, son, and friend but that he feigned it so much better than everyone else.

_How well do you know him/her?_

Fuji didn't expect Tezuka to mention 'yesterday' the next day, and he wasn't disappointed. Tezuka nodded at him in the morning, a little stiffer than normal, and went about practice. They didn't talk that day, but they had gone days without talking before—not many, but enough that it could have just been a coincidence—so Fuji didn't think anything of it.

Kawamura came up to him later and, blushing, handed him the river stone. "I... I have a new good luck charm." He muttered, a hand fiddling with a necklace that Fuji could have _sworn_ was on Miyaki-chan's neck yesterday.

"Congratulations." Fuji said.

Kawamura smiled. "Thanks, Fujiko."

Fuji nodded and said lightly that maybe Kawamura should start his laps. Tezuka was looking in their direction, after all. Kawamura started and started running and Fuji started doing a few stretches and didn't try to ignore the fact that Tezuka was still watching him. He wondered if Tezuka wanted a show, so he looked back at Tezuka for a split second and got up to stretch in a position that conveniently let him wave his bottom at his captain. When he looked again, Tezuka was talking with Oishi, carefully ignoring him and a little flushed, though Fuji wasn't willing to bet that it wasn't just his imagination.

He wondered if it was a good idea to have done that later, when it became obvious that Tezuka was avoiding him. Tezuka _never_ ate lunch anywhere other than the little corner in the lunch room where the sun never hit, because it did bad things to his appetite, he had told Fuji the one time Fuji had asked. And if he did, he always told Fuji. Fuji had found it wonderful and amazing the first time he had realized that Tezuka was willing go out of his way to eat lunch with him.

That day, though, he couldn't find Tezuka anywhere and at last resorted to walking around randomly, lunch box already back in his locker because he didn't expect to find Tezuka that day. Apparently he wasn't as good at telling the future as Yumiko. He was walking outside, ten minutes to the end of lunch, when he found Tezuka, sitting under a tree with a girl that Fuji had always assumed was one of _his_ fangirls, not Tezuka's. Tezuka was actually smiling, happy, and the girl was waving her hands animatedly. Fuji immediately turned and ran back inside to the safety of the large lunchroom.

It had always been impossible, but now he couldn't even dream anymore.

He looked around and, seeing Eiji, put his smile back on and walked over calmly to where Eiji was telling Oishi in detail how cool his awesome new move was. He didn't notice Fuji walk up behind him though Oishi did, and Fuji surveyed Eiji's lunch before reaching forward and taking one of several cookies that Eiji's sister had packed for him.

"Ah, Fuji!" Eiji jumped up from his seat and attached himself to Fuji. "Wanna hear about my really cool new move?"

Fuji smiled and hoped it looked real. "Alright."

And as Eiji went on and on about how high he could jump, Fuji nodded and made little sounds that sounded like agreement and tried very hard to not think about Tezuka and the girl.

-x-

In the next week, Fuji discovered that, while he wasn't quite over Tezuka, he wasn't really as upset as he could be. It was like when Yuuta had left. Fuji hadn't been upset, hadn't complained at all to anyone. He had been shocked at how cold he was until he woke up in the middle of the night and realized his cheeks were wet.

He had cried the rest of that night and skipped morning practice the next day and Tezuka hadn't said anything.

This was the same sort of numbness and Fuji didn't look forward to when it would really sink in. He would get over Tezuka, of course. It would be silly to get hung up over this, but it would take a while. Until then, he wasn't doing so badly at not changing noticeably much around Tezuka and he was actually rather proud of himself.

Until Tezuka came up to him the next Monday and told him they would be eating on the roof, because the cafeteria was too loud. He had smiled and nodded and said something that he wouldn't remember later, but he panicked later and wondered why Tezuka would want him on the roof. For that matter, why didn't Tezuka eat lunch with his new girlfriend at all? Another plot was forming in Fuji's mind and he was wondering if he could do it without breaking, helping Tezuka and his girlfriend out, before he knew it.

Fuji would definitely get over Tezuka. He would _definitely_ not break.

So he got through his classes not by daydreaming but by mentally preparing himself because he realized that Tezuka wouldn't want privacy unless he wanted to talk about something private and he would almost definitely be asking about what he should do with his new girlfriend. The girl wasn't shy, Fuji knew. He just had to tell Tezuka to go along with her and then he had to eat without saying anything because he didn't trust himself to not say anything stupid and then he could go back to class.

It was a good plan. But when he got to the roof's door, he froze and almost couldn't go up. He closed his eyes for a moment and then pushed the door open, because Fuji Syuusuke didn't know the meaning of 'couldn't.'

He wished he did, when he saw the chocolates on Tezuka's lap. He had another box like it in his bag, because he hadn't told Yumiko that Tezuka already had a girlfriend. He almost wished he'd given Tezuka chocolates too. But he couldn't and neither could he turn back now, so he walked forward, smiling, and said softly, "Chocolates from someone special, Tezuka?"

Tezuka closed his eyes, clenched his right hand, and opened his eyes again, though he didn't look at Fuji. Then he picked up the box off his lap and held it out to Fuji.

Fuji stared at him, not sure what to do, for the first time since he was five unsure what to say. Finally, he managed a short, uncertain, "Tezuka?"

Tezuka was blushing and his hand trembled—not from the effort of holding up a box of candies, surely, Fuji thought. "I... She said that you'd... You'd like chocolates and that... It was obvious that I... And that you would..."

It was the first time Fuji had ever heard Tezuka stutter so much and so nervous and then he finally realized what Tezuka was trying to say and his legs gave out under him and he started laughing and crying and trying to reach for the box but his arms wouldn't obey because he was laughing too hard. Tezuka stared at him, confused, and finally Fuji managed to calm down enough to crawl forward and give Tezuka a little kiss on the lips as he mentally crossed off that wish from his list.

_How well does he/she know you?_

Tezuka told him one day as they studied at Fuji's house that he was incredibly easy to please and Fuji had laughed—he seemed to be laughing a lot, lately—and twined his fingers around Tezuka's. It would be Valentines soon. Fuji didn't relish turning down chocolates and he wouldn't like watching girls offering Tezuka chocolates, but it was inevitable. Fuji's family knew, of course. They had known for a while that he had liked his tennis captain, then, so all that remained was for them to be happy for him. As far as Fuji knew, though, no one else knew and so the chocolates would come as they always did except now he had to turn them down.

A week before the dreaded day, he sat in class and tried to think of the best way to do it when he heard two girls talking.

"Did you hear about Tezuka?"

"Shh! I'm sure it's not true. It _can't_ be true!" The girl was absolutely frantic, enough for even Fuji to panic. Nothing could have happened to Tezuka... right? He got up and ran out of his class, into the hall where the students who were used to Eiji's antics just jumped out of his way, and into Tezuka's class.

Tezuka sat in the middle of a giant mob of people, calm, serious, and annoyed. Fuji took a breath. Nothing had happened.

"Fuji-kun!" One of the girls saw him and practically tackled him to the ground. "It's not true, right?"

"Hmm?" He carefully extricated himself from her grasp.

"It's just a bad joke, right? Tezuka-kun's just telling a really bad joke..." Her eyes were pleading.

Fuji hadn't known that Tezuka told jokes at all, but Tezuka was looking at him, eyes alive with mirth, so Fuji wasn't sure about that anymore.. "I don't think so...?" He said.

"He's not really..." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Gay, is he?"

Ah. That was it, then. Fuji smiled and made his way to Tezuka, kneeling by his desk and looking up at him. Then he asked, his voice entirely serious. "Is that true, Tezuka? Are you really gay?"

Tezuka smiled at him, so that it was far too obvious even for the most oblivious, that he was and that he and Fuji were more than 'just friends' and he didn't say anything but leaned forward and captured Fuji's lips again. "You shouldn't listen to rumors."

Fuji wondered how Tezuka could keep his voice so mirthlessly calm at times like those. 


End file.
